Not Us (I Will Not Say Goodbye)
by CapGirlCanuck
Summary: Some people might let go. Some people might move on. But not Steve. He can't. He hasn't said 'goodbye' before. He won't now. Or: what happens when I see Infinity War for the first time in eight months and then hear Danny Gokey's "I Will Not Say Goodbye". Endgame speculation: moments when Steve grieves/misses Bucky. (Listen to the song before and after.) Brothers2infinity


He couldn't count how many times he'd closed his eyes and opened them again, how many times he'd clenched his hands into fists and let his fingers fall open, how many times he'd opened his mouth to call and closed it again without a sound.

He just kept walking.

The tall grass brushed his legs, but he heard rather than felt it. He was absorbed by the sounds around him: the grass, his footsteps, his breathing, the rustle of his uniform. And behind them: silence. Out here on the savannah of Wakanda, away from the villages, away from the city, away from where the people worked, played, laughed, lived…

He had left that behind him, going nowhere, going anywhere, anywhere away from the brokenness, the despair of the people left behind. Away from the questions, the demands, the fears, the debate.

He had his head down, watching his feet move, the ground blurring, blurring…

He stumbled.

Something was happening in his chest, something swelling, thickening, stealing his breath. He gasped once, twice, fighting it.

Standing still, he lifted his head, found himself on a hill looking to the west, land spread out before him: dry savannah, rivers, jungle, grazing lands, the mountains. As he stared, a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, catching him in the eyes, dazzling with the soft orange of evening.

Something like the ghost of a smile twitched his lips, and he turned to see what Buck thought.

But there was no one there.

He turned again, keen eyes sweeping the landscape, searching, searching…

But there was no one there.

He was alone.

He could see Bucky standing beside him, smiling slightly, shoving strands of hair out of his face, rubbing his sweaty arm across his forehead, turning to make some comment about how Steve should take a shot at painting one of these days and put sunsets like that on canvas.

He blinked, clenched his hands into fists, opened his mouth to say something, even just the man's name, to answer that question of a single word.

"_Steve?"_

No sound escaped him.

He heaved a deep breath, saw Bucky's face, the confusion as he saw his arm crumbling to dust. He stumbled, falling, his eyes catching on Steve's one last time, before there was nothing but a swirl of ash on the breeze.

"Buck."

It was perhaps not even a whisper, something no one could have heard. Yet, he knew with sudden certainty that Bucky would have heard it.

That single syllable seemed to vanish, swallowed up in the vast open space around Steve.

"_Steve?"_

His last word, his last thought had been to turn to Steve, to call out, to reach for his friend. Steve had looked over, blinked, taken a breath of surprise, words catching in his throat.

He tried again.

_Bucky._ The word seemed to echo in his mind, even as the silence deafened him.

A quick, gasping breath shook his shoulders; the ground was unsteady beneath him. He wondered, even as he dropped to his knees, if he would be next, crumbling away into nothingness.

His knees met the unforgiving earth hard enough to jar him. Something inside him loosened, cracked.

"_Steve?"_

_Bucky._

He wanted to scream it out, as he had hanging off the side of a train in a swirl of snow. He wanted to say it so his friend would look him in the eyes and know him. He wanted to whisper it so Bucky would hear, so it would be the last thing he heard.

"Bu-cky."

The name broke in half, and he lifted his head, searching through tear-filled eyes for his friend's face, to know he'd been heard.

But he was alone.

Why, why had he not found the words? Why had he frozen there, the shock a hand over his mouth?

"_Steve?"_

"Bu-cky!"

The sobs broke free, tearing at him, his shoulders heaving as he doubled over. His hands scrabbled at the ground, clenching handfuls of dirt and grass. Tears spilled over, running down his face, hot, falling to the earth. He was shattering, falling apart from the inside; pain clawing across his abdomen, up to his chest.

"Bu-uck."

For having done it so many times before, grieving got no easier.

* * *

It hurt to see the stars, but it hurt more not to.

He swung his legs, gently kicking his feet against the wall, high above the Avengers compound. The security lights cast shadows across the grass, but he sat in darkness. The air was cool on his bare arms, but he wasn't cold.

He turned, swinging his legs up onto the wall, and stretching out along the top; it was wide enough that his arms didn't hang down. The cement was hard under him, but it didn't really register; just a fact, like the fact he was breathing.

How many times had he and Bucky ended up falling asleep under the stars?

They had put the couch cushions out on the fire escape once, too hot to sleep inside. Steve had found the pictures in the stars, and Bucky had told the stories to go with them.

A frigid night in Europe somewhere, Bucky nestling close against Steve's side, the others pressing around so that they became a pile of men, sleeping like puppies. The two of them had stayed awake longer, watching the stars through the holes in the barn roof.

Sprawled by the fire outside Bucky's hut, meteor's streaking the sky above them, reaching for Bucky's hand in the dark, wanting to reassure himself that his friend was there. _"I made a wish once. I wished you would still be my friend next summer." _Bucky's warm clasp, the smile in his voice: _"Sorry. It's not next summer."_

Steve managed to swallow, fighting back the tears. How long would this go on? How long until he would stop picking up his phone to call Bucky? How long until he could replay some of the videos Shuri had sent him, without hurting? How long until he believed it?

Never. He never wanted to let go.

If he had known what was coming, he would never have let go of his brother's hand.

He couldn't let go now. He wouldn't.

He opened his eyes, stared up into a blurry black sky.

Laughter, Bucky tickling the little kids as they rolled in the grass, smiles bright in their dark faces. Singing, Bucky joining in with Steve and his mom, even though everyone knew he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Dancing, Bucky swinging his sister around the Barnes' living room, Steve clapping and stomping with the others.

The echoes hurt.

He sat up, pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them, rested his chin on his knees. The tears came slow and silent, streaking down to soak into his khakis.

There was an emptiness, that space beside him where Bucky had sat, solid and strong when Steve leaned into him. That warmth when Steve would wrap his arm around his shoulders, pull Bucky in close.

Nightmares, bad memories, panic attacks, grief, pain, the darkness of a long night. It had never been enough to destroy the comfort of a friend who stuck by his word.

_I'm with you to the end of the line,_ Bucky had said.

_I'm with you to the end of the line, _Steve had said.

And was this to be the end?

He remembered lying in bed, watching Bucky sleep in the chair, worn and tired from nursing his friend back to the land of the living. He had always believed he would die before Bucky, he'd been prepared for that. But he'd never considered this. He'd never thought he would be the one left behind, and not just once either.

How many times did his heart have to break before it was enough? Was his portion of the shadows that everyone had to walk through really so much greater? Or was it just relative to the joys he had experienced?

Yes, he'd had those too, the light, the love.

He'd lost it all, he'd found it again, and now…

Would it ever end? Or was it simply his lot in life to shoulder that much more of the pain in this world?

Was it so terrible of him to sit here, and wish for his friend to come and sit with him? They wouldn't even have to speak, the depth of understanding between them was too strong. Bucky would let him cry, would tease him 'til he laughed, would let Steve hang onto him for as long as he needed to.

Slowly, Steve lifted his head, rubbed a hand across his face, sniffed, sighed.

He tilted his face to the sky, wet his lips with his tongue, tasting the salt of his tears.

"Buck," he whispered. "I miss you."

* * *

Dawn was coming.

The clouds had lifted in the night; it would be a clear day, the beautiful kind that made Steve's heart ache.

He sat on the side of his bed, rubbed a hand over his face. Another sleepless night, his heart too full of hopes and fears at war.

It was light enough that he could see colors of the book spines on the shelves. Slowly—so slowly you couldn't see it happening, but surely—so surely you couldn't deny it, the darkness receded.

Steve could hear the echo of last night heated conversation, everyone desperate to hope, and just as desperate to avoid hope. It had been so long…

He blinked, stood, glanced out the window.

He knew of course what they would do. If there was any chance, any chance at all, they'd grab it with both hands. Because the only other choice was moving on. And Steve had never been good at that.

He had a sudden strong desire to feel the sun's first rays on his face, to maybe fight back the fear, long enough to taste even a moment of hope. He moved silently to grab a clean t-shirt and track pants from the dresser, quickly laced up his running shoes.

He met no one on his way out, a strange peace resting on the compound. Outside, he left the drive, breaking into a steady run across the grass toward the woods.

He knew how to avoid the security, slipping into the woods as his run picked up speed. It was good to feel the wind in his face, to put focus and strength into something real and purposeful.

He found his way upward, always upward, climbing a few hills, before the trees cleared and farm land rolled away from him. He slowed to a walk, meandering along the crest of the hill before he found a fallen tree to sit on.

It was beautiful.

He lifted his face to the blue sky, the pink flush turning to gold, as the sun neared the horizon.

A deep breath.

"Buck? I don't know if I should say it. Maybe I only dreamed it… But I don't want to have dreamed it. I want it to be real."

He stared down at his clasped hands, forced the words to come, not that he had to, the words _wanted_ to be said. "There might be a way we can undo all this. We think we've found a way to… bring everyone back."

A sudden burst of birdsong in the woods behind him, made his head jerk up, something like a chuckle breaking out of him. He stood suddenly.

"I swear, Buck. I'm not letting the line end here. Whatever it is, whatever it takes, I'm doing it. 'Cause I'm not letting you go. I'll never let you go. I swear I'll find you. Wherever you are, I'll find you."

He blinked, dazzled for a moment by the warmth of the sunshine spilling across the countryside. There was a golden blur, before he blinked again, felt the tears slip down his cheeks.

_Sap._

This time it was definitely a chuckle. "Yeah, sure. How about a deal? Next time I cry will be when I see you again." He sniffed, swiped the back of one hand across his cheek. "Whenever that is. I don't… I don't know what this'll cost. I know it will take something, I just hope… Well, you know."

Steve sucked in a deep breath, the sun now high enough to bathe him completely in its light. "I never once got to say goodbye. But I'm not gonna say it now. Just remember, pal, I'm with you to the end of the line."

_I'm with you to the end of the line, pal._

It was the echo of Bucky's voice, the words spoken all those years ago. For a moment Steve felt suspended somewhere between the past and the present, Bucky's hand on his shoulder, smiling at Steve, before pulling him into a hug.

Another bird launched into its song, breaking the moment. Steve blinked, took in the view with a long, slow breath.

He was alone on that hillside, alone except for a weary world dreaming of hope. Silently, almost reverently, he turned his back to the sun and retraced his steps into the shadows of the forest.

* * *

_We've all lost.  
Some people might move on.  
But not us.  
Whatever it takes.  
I will not say goodbye._

* * *

"Steve?"

"Bucky?!"


End file.
